


It Drives Me Wild

by KaytiKazoo



Series: Blue Neighborhood [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Childhood Friends, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Reminiscing, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-26 00:36:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4983055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaytiKazoo/pseuds/KaytiKazoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Isaac have been friends since they were kids, now turned boyfriends, and Stiles reflects on the greatest hits of their childhood together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Drives Me Wild

Stiles crawled onto the bed after discarding his bag by the desk, grinning at Isaac, before flopping on top of his boyfriend happily. He rested his head on Isaac’s chest, and just sighed. He’d had a long day, with several very important tests that he hadn’t really studied for and a long grueling practice where Coach had taken all of his frustrations out on the team. He was sore, and hungry, and tired, and just wanted to cuddle his boyfriend. Isaac chuckled and wrapped his arms around Stiles, kissing his forehead.

“How was your day?” he asked softly, brushing his hand over Stiles’ hair as if to try and tame it. Stiles had been neglecting brushing his hair since he started letting it grow out, acting as if his hair was still buzzcut short. Every day was a new adventure with Stiles’ hair, sometimes it was tame and laid mostly flat while other days it stuck straight up in the air like a confused Mohawk.

“Awful, how about yours?”

“Better now that you’re here,” Isaac confessed. He had failed one of his tests, because he had been making out with Stiles instead of studying, and he’d been tense and scared since he got the grade back. He didn’t know how to face his dad, who already thought he was stupid and couldn’t get good grades anyway. He’d come home from school, glad that his dad was already gone, and laid on the bed, trying to come up with a scenario that didn’t end with the freezer. He’d stressed himself out so much that only the sound of Stiles’ piece of shit Jeep almost stalling in front of his house made his mind stop whirring so fast, and the negative thoughts stalled as soon as Stiles flopped on top of him.

“Well, I’m here and I’m not leaving until our homework is done.”

Isaac sat up and dragged his boyfriend with him, letting Stiles hook his legs over Isaac’s like a bracket on his hips. Stiles wrapped himself around Isaac like an octopus, his hands gripping the back of Isaac’s shirt tightly while he rested his cheek on Isaac’s shoulder.

“You’re not allowed to do your homework, then,” Isaac decided.

Stiles hummed and just shuffled into Isaac’s lap as close as he possibly could.

“I don’t know what I want to write about for my narrative anyway,” Stiles replied, his voice muffled in Isaac’s shoulder.

“The time that you and Scott got food poisoning and shit yourselves in Coach’s office,” Isaac answered.

“Fuck off.”

Isaac laughed and nuzzled Stiles in the jaw.

“I was thinking, actually, about growing up with you, having you there when my mom died.”

Stiles had been thinking about their childhood a lot recently, ever since Ms. Blake had assigned a personal narrative for them to write. His immediate instinct was to write about Isaac, which is exactly what he’d done for the poetry unit they’d done earlier in the semester. Isaac had been a major part of Stiles life since he was in primary school.

They’d met as kids, and Stiles isn’t quite sure how they became friends because he remembered disliking Isaac for the attention Scott had paid him instead of Stiles. But somehow, they did and when Scott moved away for a little bit to live with his dad and go to school in Beacon Heights, Isaac was all Stiles had for a friend. Scott’s dad didn’t let Scott see his friends often, so they had to make do with each other. This was before Stiles’ mom had died.

The summer when Claudia had really slipped into her dementia, the last summer before she died, the Sheriff, then a deputy, had forced Stiles to get out of the house and be a normal kid, so Stiles was constantly with Isaac. There were days where Stiles was at home for less than a handful of hours, getting home late from hanging out with Isaac and rising early to go back to him. His dad was working long hours, and his mother was under constant care at the hospital, so no one knew if Stiles wasn’t home for curfew and Isaac’s father didn’t try to keep track of his son as long as he kept his grades up and didn’t get into trouble.

They used to ride their bikes around Beacon Hills, dragging themselves to the beach and back until their skin was golden brown or, well, burnt like a lobster for Stiles.

“Stiles, you’re being ridiculous,” Isaac had said one afternoon during that summer. “Put that down!”

Stiles had wiggled the slightly floppy plastic sword at Isaac with a grin.

“What are you going to do to stop me, Lahey?” Stiles had teased.

“I’m going to toss you in the ocean!”

“Oh, yeah?” Stiles had tossed up the sword towards Isaac, then took off, shrieking over his shoulder, “You’re gonna have to catch me first!”

Isaac had laughed and followed Stiles, weaving through the tall reeds, threatening to feed Stiles to the nearest shark population. Stiles, at the edge of the grass, turned and waited for Isaac to barrel into him, dragging them into the hot, dry sand. They had dragged themselves home with sand in every place that you don’t want sand. Isaac hadn’t stopped complaining about Stiles getting sand in his ear for at least two weeks, but Isaac had also chased Stiles around the beach with this dead squid thing, so it was pretty even that summer.

They had found the squid washed up on shore, slimy and decaying in the summer sun. Isaac had been the one to pick it up, dangling it in front of Stiles as he examined it. Stiles had been squeamish for most of his life, shying away from blood and from needles. The squid was smelly, and Stiles had to stop himself from gagging at the odor. Isaac, however, wasn’t afraid of things gross and slimy, the smell barely bothering him.

“Put that down,” Stiles finally had said, the scent of it overwhelming him.

“Why? Are you afraid of a little dead sea creature?” Isaac had teased. He had wiggled the squid towards Stiles, who promptly scrambled backwards. A devilish smile had crossed Isaac’s face. “Come on, Stiles! He isn’t gonna hurt you!”

“Get it away from me, Lahey!”

“He just wants to give you a kiss!”

“Screw you!”

“Oh, I’m gonna tell your dad that you’re saying bad words out here!” Isaac had teased, even though Isaac had been swearing far longer than Stiles had, due to his older brother.

Isaac had worshipped Camden, and had wanted to be just like him. Before Stiles and Scott came along, Isaac’s only friend had been Camden. In fact, Camden was Isaac’s confidante about all the things Isaac had been too scared to tell his dad about.

That year, though, Camden had been shipped overseas and Isaac didn’t have anyone but Stiles.

Similarly, as Claudia slipped into her dementia, his father working longer and longer hours to cope, and with Scott shipped off to his dad’s, Stiles didn’t have anyone but Isaac.

Stiles pulled back from Isaac, sitting in his now boyfriend’s lap. He moved his hands to Isaac’s jaw and just admired him.

“What?” Isaac asked.

Stiles just smiled at him before moving back to rest himself against Isaac. He sighed happily, falling back into memories.

Isaac used to do this dumb thing where he would take clothes pins and stick them on the ends of his fingers. Stiles hated it, because he’d wriggle his fingers at Stiles tauntingly and then Isaac would poke and prod at him, tickling him mercilessly. Isaac knew Stiles hated to be tickled especially because Stiles was the most ticklish person that probably had ever lived. Isaac would chase Stiles relentlessly with the threat of a tickle attack, and Stiles would run even if his lungs were about to explode. Luckily, he didn’t have asthma like Scott or their childhood would’ve been significantly different.

Isaac and Stiles used to terrorize the town of Beacon Hills, riding on their bikes down to the stores still left in the center of town. They would play all day in the park, or ride to the beach to play, pretending to be astronauts, or knights, or thieves, or cops. It didn’t matter what they were doing, or who they were pretending to be, as long as they were there together.

At the end of the day, after they’d had their fill of terrorizing the town, Isaac and Stiles would bike back to the Stilinski house as the sun was setting or even later, depending on whether or not Stiles’ dad was home that night. They would say goodbye for the night, and Isaac would wait until Stiles was inside the house before heading off. Stiles would race up through the house and through his room to the tiny balcony to watch Isaac ride away. Isaac would stop every time just beyond the yard and look back, smiling at Stiles, which Stiles would return, and then Isaac would peddle on home.

On the days where the beach was too crowded, normally weekends and holidays, the boys sought other venues of play. They found a half-formed fort in the woods near the edge of the cemetery where Isaac’s dad had taken up work since leaving the school, and using what little building knowledge they had, which came mostly from Lego bricks and Lincoln Logs, they put up a roof made out of wobbly plastic they’d found in a bordering recycling and junkyard.

Stiles doesn’t remember anymore what they did in that fort, but he remembers the feeling of being at home there. It had more life than his own two-story, suburban house did in those days, and it was just planks of wood haphazardly thrown together with a plastic roof to keep their “furniture” from getting soggy on rainy days.

On those rainy days, Stiles and Isaac would hole up in one of their houses, make blanket forts on their beds, and watch movies or play video games on their tiny bedroom televisions. They watched the entirety of the Star Wars original trilogy no less than 13 times together over the summer, in between bouncing on the bed like they were always expressly told _not_ to. They’d challenge each other to see who could jump the farthest up, which was always Isaac because Isaac was taller and had longer legs. Sometimes, when they grew tired of movies and bouncing, they’d lay down together in the fort and whisper secrets to each other that they never had the strength or resolve to talk about outside of the fort’s blanket walls.

Isaac talked about his dad’s drinking often, which Stiles remembered experiencing first hand only once.

They had gone down to the beach with their families for a belated-Independence Day celebration kind of thing. They’d brought coolers and a small travel charcoal grill, enough food and drink to last from early morning until sundown at least. It had even been a good day for Claudia, good enough that the hospital had allowed her a day’s reprieve from the onslaught of hospital life. A few other adults came with them, but Stiles was still on a high of seeing his mother in her jeans and a t-shirt, hair pulled up away from her face, her eyes bright and clear. She had said his name that morning, and had _smiled_ at him.

Stiles and Isaac took off as soon as they’d arrived, even before Claudia had a chance to chastise them into putting on sunscreen. They’d been here dozens of times since the beginning of the summer, and they already had a plan for the day. They chased each other around the reedy grass, played hide and seek in the parking lot, had a swordfight using pieces of warped driftwood, and finally when the sun was sitting fat in the sky, they headed back for water and maybe a burger.

As they drew close to the group, Isaac had groaned.

“I’m sorry, Stiles,” he had said before dashing towards the group. His dad was pushing at one of the other guys, his actions shaky with too much alcohol in his system. Stiles had watched, stumbling through the sand to his own dad who pulled Stiles into him protectively. Isaac had pushed his dad away and stood in between the two men fearlessly, and Stiles could only watch. He was just a kid, at least two heads shorter than his dad, and there he was getting in the middle.

“Come on, Dad. Let’s go. You’ve had enough,” Isaac had reasoned quietly. “Let’s go home.”

Stiles had watched Isaac lead his father away, looking over his shoulder only once to give Stiles an apologetic grimace before returning his attention to his stumbling father.

They’d spent the next day together in the fort, Isaac telling him about his father’s drinking and how he wasn’t violent or mean, but he got handsy and sometimes didn’t realize that what he was doing wasn’t socially acceptable.

Stiles had fearfully asked if he’d ever touched Isaac in any way.

Isaac had shaken his head.

“No, he’s never done anything like that.”

During the summer, there were some dark times, like that day at the beach, but there was this one shiny spark of light that kept Stiles going whenever he wanted to give up.

It was starting to get cold, well, as cold as it got in California. Stiles’ dad had decided that they weren’t to go into the ocean to swim now that the temperature was starting to drop, so of course, the boys had decided they needed one last swim.

It had been Stiles’ idea, which wasn’t hard for anyone to guess since even back then Stiles had been the more _delinquent_ of the two.

They’d ridden their bikes to the beachfront after dinner to catch the sunset, and had sat at the edge of the boating dock, their legs dangled over the edge with their toes just barely skimming the lapping waves. Just as the sky was starting to shift colors, they had tugged their shirts off and tossed them down the dock. They had clambered to their feet, and stood side by side.

“So,” Isaac had said quietly. “Who goes first?”

They had jumped into the ocean hundreds of times, but it was colder today, and this was also now _Against the Rules_. Things that were _Against the Rules_ were one hundred times more exciting to Stiles, the son of the Law himself, than any old activity.

“We’ll go together,” Stiles had decided.

“This isn’t going to be one of those we’ll jump together but you pull up at the last second and I jump in by myself things, right?” Isaac had asked.

“No, I promise I’ll jump with you.”

Isaac had looked at him with wide blue eyes and Stiles held out his hand.

“Together?” Isaac had asked again, taking Stiles’ hand in his.

“Together,” Stiles had assured him.

They took a few steps back and then on Stiles’ nod, burst off the dock with loud, carefree laughs, plunging into the frigid waves below together.

Years later, clinging to one another, Stiles breathed in his boyfriend’s scent slowly. He had such a shitty day and this, this right here, them together in this bed was all Stiles could possibly need. This was all he really needed, this bed, this boy, this _them_. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So this is an AU based off of Troye Sivan's Blue Neighborhood music video series which you can watch [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fdXNNveYOfU)! There will be two more parts in stand-alone stories, so make sure you SUBSCRIBE to the series to find out when I post the next two parts!  
> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! If you wouldn't mind giving me a comment or a kudos, maybe a bookmark, hell, maybe you could even share this, I would be eternally grateful!
> 
> DFTBA  
> -K
> 
> P.S. You should check out my friend, [Ingrid's artwork](http://errevs.tumblr.com/post/130942192146/leave-this-blue-neighbourhood-never-knew-loving) she did when I mentioned writing this!


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